Swigging Sprite ‘Cause This Bitch Don’t Give a Fuck or; I’m Going to Become an Immigrant. A Legal Immigrant. Like That Sting Song or; Quick, Catchy Titles.

I keep having these dreams where I have to run away from something, but my legs are to tired but then it turns out if I run backwards I’m pretty fast. I have them, like, twice a week. Fucked up, init? That’s not what I’m here to tell you all though. I’m here to tell you about something else. Something far more sinister. Something that would make the most hardened of criminals quiver like a… Like a… Damn. The only things I can think of are either really racist or really sick so I’m not going to say any of them. I actually had nothing sinister to tell you. I was going to just make up some nonsense story that never happened, but now I’m too concerned about the state of my mental health. Why can’t I have normal thoughts like a normal boy?

Oh well. As you all know, because I keep saying, I’ve been pretty relaxed with this blog this year. I remember the good ol’ days where five or six hundred people would read this shit a week and I’d write a post a day, but I grew lazy. I grew lazy, bored and despondent. Everything started to suck and that’s that, but I forged a plan! A pretty banging plan, if I do say so myself. I’m moving to Canadia. That’s right! This time next year I will be a Canadanishman. I think that’s what they’re called, but I’m not sure. I’ve never been. It seems like a bit of a gamble, getting a two-year visa to live in a country you’ve never been too, but I believe you don’t learn a lesson until you learn it the hard way. I’m not saying Canadia will be shit, it probably wont be, I’m just saying fuck it. The UK sucks arse and every other Canadanishman/woman has been a down-and-out legend. From Jane Levar to Tom Green and all the in-betweens. I’m not going to sit here and list them all, I just thought I’d start with the person you are less likely to know and then go to the person you are most like;y to know and leave out the middle ones, because that’s not how that framework of a sentence rolls. What would be the point in me listing every Canadanishman/woman I had ever met? I’d be here all day (though a worthy note would be the late, great Christophe Davidson, God rest his shattered soul). And I don’t want to be here all day. It’s 1.27am* so that’s literally the start of the day. I’d have almost 23 hours and now I think about it I don’t think I know that many people from Canadia. Also, I have to wake up early to go walk dogs with Jane Levar, the first Canadanishman/woman I named who you probably don’t know. She’s cool though. If you ever get the chance, meet her. Or not. I aint yo mamma.

Let me tell you this though: If I was yo mamma you’d have to change your lifestyle right away. Look at you, sat in your underwear at God-knows what hour, reading pointless nonsense from a Welshman while he listens to Clare & The Reasons in the nude, drinking fancy beer he got from his fancy new job in a fancy beer shop. You disgust me. Get a job! That’s what I’d be saying. Then we’d have a huge falling out because I “don’t understand your lifestyle.” Well let me tell you this: I was young once, too. I know what it’s like to want to stay up all night, playing on your SNES and watching Ren & Stimpy repeats on a VHS while eating “cool” Doritos and drinking Sprite from the bottle. Not a small bottle, either. Oh no. A big two-litre fucker. I use to swig that shit straight from the bottle, even though I knew that the more I opened it the less and less fizzy it would become, and by the end it would be a flat, weakened mess of my own throwbacks. But that was the 90’s. I was young. I hadn’t met your father back then. Don’t judge me! I wash your bedding. I know what you get up to.

No go to your room! GO TO YOUR ROOM AND THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU’VE DONE AND HOOVER THE FUCKING STAIRS FOR ONCE!